


Need You Now

by Greenie (hidetheteaspoons)



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, travelodge fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidetheteaspoons/pseuds/Greenie
Summary: What if Cormoran went to Robin that night at the Travelodge? Smut ensues.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 33
Kudos: 106





	1. I Can't Fight it Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this first chapter written for about two weeks and am posting now that I'm slightly drunk...the following three chapters have yet to be written, but are impending. This will be my first smut fic for this ship and I'm nervous but also excited. Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to my girl @ravenpuff1956 for being my beta!

Cormoran Strike walked the small length of his room, too wired to sleep. Like a big cat in a cage, waiting for its dinner, he paced and prowled, his brows furrowed in deep thought. His fingertips tingled in anticipation. 

It was two in the morning and he couldn't sleep worth a damn. His mind wandered instinctively to Robin, who was merely five doors down the hall from him.

_Was she as awake and confused as he was?_

Robin was bloody intelligent and perceptive. He wondered if she felt it when they bade each other good night in the hallway just hours earlier. The air had been thick between them, charged with the emotional upheaval of the previous forty-eight hours. It was filled with all the things they'd left unsaid and left Cormoran _yearning_ for her.

His metaphorical bed had been empty for a long time. Not by choice particularly, but by lack of time, interest, and worthy partners. As cliché as it sounded, all other women seemed to fade into the background when Robin was near. Her warmth, her passion, and her loyalty overcame that of all the other women he had known in the past decade. Matthew was a fucking wanker for ever giving his romantic attention to another woman. 

Robin wasn't crazy. She wasn't broken. She wasn't weak. Like him, she'd had a horrible thing happen to her and had done her best to rise above it. Like him, she had a strong work ethic and a demanding job that left little time available for anything else. Like him, she had a tumultuous relationship with her long-term ex. 

Is that what Matthew was now? Her ex? Would she leave him or go back to him the second he apologized? He liked to think that Robin had more self-preservation than to return to a man who had betrayed her during the most vulnerable time of her life. It was unfortunate that Matthew had been all Robin ever knew of love and relationships. She was worthy of so much more than him. 

Strike continued pacing, wincing slightly as his prosthesis chafed at his sore stump. They'd been all over today in the Land Rover, driving, walking, and looking for Brockbank. Cormoran was waiting for his mental fatigue to catch up with his physical exhaustion, but it just wasn't happening. His mind was a compass and his thoughts were the needle and everything pointed him toward Robin. He chided himself, muttering and shaking his head. He couldn't do it. He couldn't take advantage of the situation. It had to be her. Oh, how he wished it would be her. 

He finally flopped down onto the mattress without bothering to remove the prosthesis. He laid back with his knees bent at the foot of the bed and his arms above his head in an attempt to relax his overwrought body. He allowed his eyes to close and think of all the things he loved about her. Her driving. Her hair. Her knack for investigative work. Her quick thinking. Her curves. Her intelligence. Her compassion. Her tenacity. Her lips. Her strength. Her loyalty. Her stubbornness. 

He smiled to himself as he laced his hands behind his head and slowly drifted off, with thoughts of her lulling him into a deep sleep.

He was awoken at what seemed only like a few minutes later by a sharp rap on the door. He sat up and glared at the door, willing whoever it was to leave. His mind still in a sleepy haze, he slowly started to remember where he was and who he was with. His heart thudded in his chest and his pulse began to race. _Could it be?_

Running a hand through his mass of soft curls, Strike pulled open the door and was surprised to find a scantily clad young woman standing there in what could only be described as a drunken stupor. 

“Er...can I help you?” Strike asked, his eyes focused on the woman's face. She was looking past him and into the room. Her stare unnerved him. 

“‘M lookin’ fer Duke. He's got meh keys the fucker. You ‘im?”

“‘Fraid not,” Strike responded. He was sure she didn't need to find Duke at all...not until she sobered up. 

“This number 162?” she mumbled, looking up at Strike. 

“Nah ‘s 126.”

She looked at the sign beside Strike's room and sighed. “Damn.”

“Sorry I can't be of more help. Cheers,” Strike said, forcing the door closed. He heard her shuffle down the hallway and knock a few doors down. Poor girl was totally smashed, and Strike didn't have the energy to deal with her. 

He heaved a sigh. It had only been an hour since he'd laid on the bed, so he truly had only gotten a few moments of sleep. Now, he was right back where he'd started. Awake and thinking of her. 

Strike sat on the bed once more and pondered removing his prosthesis, but something told him not to. Not yet. He couldn't shake the voice in the back of his mind that told him he was awake for a reason. It told him that she might be awake too. It told him that he needed her. _‘Go’,_ it said. He went. 


	2. Can't Stop Looking at the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin has a lot to think about, and a visitor (or two).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all - I'm back with round two! Yet another plotty chapter before I bring ya the smut (coming next chapter - heh). 
> 
> Big thanks to my friend @mysteriousphoenix for making this chapter so much better for me!
> 
> Enjoy!

By the time they'd bade each other goodnight in the narrow, dimly-lit hallway of the Travelodge, Robin's exhaustion had hit her like a freight train. It was midnight by the time she and Strike had checked in and made their way to their individual rooms. 

Robin was thankful for Strike's quick thinking and attention to detail that had prevented an awkward encounter at the check-in desk. He had immediately requested two single rooms. Simultaneously, she was almost disappointed that he'd been so quick to dismiss the possibility that someone might think that they were a couple. But then she recalled the cold, metal rings on her nightstand back at the flat and cursed her mixed feelings.

She could never truly be with Cormoran...could she? They were compatible in some respects and polar opposites in others. While Robin wore her heart on her sleeve, he kept his under lock and key. While he was experienced with the opposite sex, she knew nothing of other men. While Cormoran had been alone for most of his life, she'd been surrounded by friends and family who loved her. Despite the differences, Robin didn't consider them valid reasons not to be with someone.

By the time they had reached Cormoran's room, her head was swimming with confusion and exhaustion. She almost missed his low and husky, “Good night.” She returned the farewell in a whisper, her eyes never leaving his until she turned her back to head five doors down to room 121. You could cut the tension with a knife. She imagined a million other things she had wanted to say to him at that moment, but opted to ignore her inner voice. She felt his eyes on her, burning holes in the back of her head. She resisted the urge to look at him as she inserted her keycard into the slot and shoved herself and her holdall into the small, dark room. Robin locked the door and rested her forehead against the large, wooden surface.

Flipping on a light, she took in the small, clean room. It was no Hazlitt’s, but it would do for one night. She dropped her bag on the floor and flung her body face down onto the stark-white comforter. Robin suddenly longed for a bubble bath but was disappointed to find that the bathroom contained only a standing shower. She sighed and shrugged out of her clothes on the spot.

As she waited for a steady stream of hot water, she allowed her mind to wander to thoughts of Matthew and their now muddled relationship. Although he had cheated on her a long time ago, his sudden admission of guilt had put a dark cloud over the past years. It made Robin question every “weekend work trip” and every “evening at the pub with Tom.” She felt powerless, and she hated it. 

Upon realizing the water was now at a pleasurable temperature, Robin stepped in and went through the motions, running shampoo and conditioner through her rose-gold locks, now darkened by the steady flow of the shower. She scrubbed her skin until it was clean and pink, as if she were ridding herself of the past ten years of Matthew's touch. After toweling off and donning her pajamas, Robin lay in bed and thoughts of Matthew involuntarily shifted to thoughts of Strike.

Robin had been quite proud of her friendship with Cormoran. He'd been the first person she'd met and formed a bond with in London, independent from Matthew. They worked well together and made an impeccable team following the Lula Landry case. In the beginning, Robin had been desperate to hold on to her job for as long as possible. This was not only because she enjoyed the work but because she enjoyed the relaxed nature of her relationship with her boss. He wasn't demanding or unkind. He was brooding, yes, but he treated her fairly. Looking back on the beginning of her career, Robin kicked herself for not seeing the red flags as soon as Matthew started suggesting that Cormoran would inevitably “make a pass” at her. He was jealous and controlling. If only she'd realized it then. It was too late now, the damage had been done. 

Now, she was here. Ringless. With Strike. Things happened for a reason. Every choice she had ever made led her to this moment, in this hotel, with this man. Did he realize how much he occupied her mind? Things felt so easy with him, so right. Could that working relationship succeed with the added complication of an actual romantic relationship? Robin heaved a sigh and rolled over to face the door. She felt exhaustion overtake her mind and her eyelids fluttered with the promise of sleep. 

A while later, a loud banging sound jolted Robin out of her deep sleep; someone was knocking on her door. She was suddenly very awake. On high alert, Robin grabbed her phone off the nightstand and rolled out of bed, padding to the door. There hadn't been any updates from Strike, but a million texts from Matt. She ignored all of them. 

Robin hesitantly unlocked the deadbolt, but left the chain securely in place so the door opened only a few inches. She was not about to let her training go to waste, especially when she had no guarantee of who was behind the door. 

She was greeted by a tall, large man. 

Robin had to stop herself from giving him a double-take. He was handsome, in a Matthew kind of way. He was dressed in dark blue pants and a pinstripe shirt with the top two buttons undone at his chest to reveal the smooth skin beneath. He was clean-shaven with dark hair and eyes and a kind smile.

“Sorry to bother yeh so late, miss, but the girl I was chattin’ with left her keys at the pub down the way. She said she was stayin' here but didn't give me her room number. Name’s Maysie I believe?”

Robin eyed him suspiciously through the small gap in the door, unsure whether or not he was to be trusted.

“Yeh don't know her do yeh?” She's short with blond hair, was wearing a dress? She was pretty out of it.”

The man must have noticed Robin's skeptical look. “Here's my identification, just in case.” He held his identification toward her, which read the name Duke McCallister. 

She slowly shook her head and apologized. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I haven't seen her. I can let the front desk know if I do?” 

“Thanks miss, appreciate yeh. Good night, then.”

Robin closed the door and whispered “good night” to her empty room. She flopped back into bed, disappointed. _‘At what?_ ’ she thought. Did she really think Cormoran was going to come to her in the middle of the night and tell her he loved her? Beg her not to go back to Matthew? Have raw, passionate sex with her here in this room? Never in a million years, and yet, there was nothing that said that _she_ couldn't make the first move, _right_?

Sitting up, mind resolved after many moments of deliberation, Robin skipped putting on her shoes and walked to the door. Reaching for the handle, she jumped back in surprise when she heard it; a series of four, slow thuds came from the other side of the door.


	3. I Just Need You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cormoran makes a confession and Robin issues an invitation.
> 
> Oh, and kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is awkward...I know I promised smut in this chapter, but it was just ENTIRELY too long, so I've broken it up. Sorry about that, but you get an extra chapter out of it! Next chapter is DEFINITELY smut and is half-written, so I hope to post in the next few days. Until then!
> 
> Thank you, as usual, @mysteriousphoenix for your wonderful beta work!

Thinking that Duke might have returned, Robin once again unlocked the door and pulled it open as far as the chain lock would allow. She was all hard lines and furrowed brows, ready to tell the man off for interrupting her sleep and, now, her mission to seek out Cormoran. 

However, upon seeing who was at the door, her expression softened and she began to undo the chain. Robin flung the door open a little too quickly and it hit the wall with a dull thud. 

“Hi, everything alright?” she asked, uncertain of what to say or do. 

He looked exhausted and delicious. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned at the collar and his curly hair was nothing more than an unruly brown mop on top of his head. Robin loved it all.

“Think so…” he trailed, running a hand through his hair, attempting to tame it the best he could.

“Well since you’re up, fancy comin’ in for a cuppa?” she asked, hopeful.

Cormoran didn’t move. He could barely look at her. How dangerous would it be for him to go into her room right now? With a woman he was painfully attracted to, who was emotionally available, though technically still with another man? He disregarded her question and asked one of his own. 

“What is he to you now?” he asked, not daring to let that arsehole’s name cross his lips.

Robin looked puzzled before realization dawned on her face and, at that moment, Cormoran knew she understood. She didn’t need clarification. “I...I don’t know…”

_It was a fair answer_ , he thought. It was not necessarily the one he was after, but it would do for tonight. He considered her softly in the glow of the low light at the entryway of her room. She was gorgeous; red-gold hair tied back, her fresh face allowing her natural beauty to shine through. Oh, how he wanted her.

In a moment of panic, he began to backtrack. This had been a mistake, a rash decision made in a moment of vulnerability...a moment of want...need. He should have known better than to try and toy with her, however unintentional it might have been. 

“Why?” she questioned, stepping forward a bit, inching ever so closely toward him. Robin’s facial expression was curious but, otherwise, unreadable.

Cormoran shook his head and gazed back down the hallway and toward his own room. It seemed much farther away than he’d originally thought. “I’m sorry I bothered you so late. Good night, Robin. Get some rest.” He turned his back toward her and began to limp back toward his room.

Robin stood in the doorway, mouth slightly agape, watching him as he walked away. He was once again running away in the metaphorical sense. He was scared, and so was she. Wouldn’t it be better to be scared with someone else, rather than by yourself? She wouldn’t let him slip away. After all, he’d clearly made the first move.

“Wait!” she called, stepping into the hallway, trying to keep her voice low so as not to wake their sleeping neighbors.

He stopped and hesitated, but didn’t turn around.

“I want to know why, Cormoran,” she demanded, fury rising. “Why did you come to my room in the middle of the night? Why did you ask about - Matthew?” she spat, his name like a bad taste in her mouth. 

“Robin,” he sighed, leaving her question unanswered.

“Cormoran,” she responded firmly.

Still facing away from her, he looked down at the floor, as if he was more interested in the pattern of the carpet than the topic of their conversation.

“ _Why?_ ” she whispered a little more harshly. She was certain she’d break if he didn’t answer, or worse, walked away. The air between them, though metres apart, was thick with all the things that remained unsaid until he filled it with his response.

“You deserve so much more than him, Robin.”

The tears began to flow and her eyes glistened as he refused to look at her. If he did, he was certain that his resolve would shatter. They would never be the same. They could never take it back.

“Cormoran, please look at me,” she pleaded, as her voice wavered.

He turned his head over his shoulder toward her, his expression was solemn.

Robin took a few steps closer to him, willing herself not to reach out and touch him. If she did, there would be no telling how the night would end, but God, if she didn’t want things to go that way. 

She waited and he finally turned, looking directly into her eyes. “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

_Silence._

“What I mean is, he’s a right twat for what he’s done to you and you’re well shot of him,” he responded, his temper flaring at the thought of Matthew and everything he’d done to her.

“But what you said,” she whispered, “about someone better…”

Strike ran a hand through the bit of scruff that covered his face. “Fuck, Robin...I shouldn’t do this.”

“But you could,” she spoke up immediately.

He took a step closer. She didn’t move. 

“I’ve wanted to, ever since…”

“Shhh,” she whispered, stopping him from finishing his sentence. “Whatever this is, we’re adults and we’re making a choice. Together?”

He nodded as she slipped her small, pale hand through his, intertwining their fingers. 

“Come with me, please?” she practically pleaded, gently biting down on her lower lip.

The things he wanted to do to those lips. He wordlessly nodded again and followed her, shuffling along beside her and closing the door behind them.

Cormoran’s hand had found its way to Robin’s waist as they walked deeper into the room together. His hand felt strong and supportive, yet his grasp was gentle. He was doing his best to remain ever the gentleman. If Robin was being honest, a gentleman was the last thing she wanted him to be at this particular moment. She wanted him to take her and make her his, but first, a conversation needed to be had.

They turned to face one another in the dim lighting of Robin’s room. She could see that his pupils were inky black as he gazed at her. Oh, to be in his mind at that very moment. Little did she know that she was the only thing on Cormoran’s mind.

He stepped forward, reached a hand toward her, and brushed a few strands of red-gold hair out of her face. His hand fell to her cheek and she leaned into his touch, reveling in the feel of him. The opposite hand eventually found its way upward and he cupped her face. “I’ve waited for so long,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting across her pouty, pink lips. “I’ve waited for you to tell me you were ready. I swore I’d never say anything until I was absolutely sure…” he trailed off.

“And _are_ you sure?” she asked, the tip of her nose nuzzling against his. She blushed and pulled back to look him in the eyes; they twinkled knowingly.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking, Ellacott?” he prodded, with a slight grin.

“I’m more than ready, Cormor-” 

As soon as the words left her lips, his mouth was on hers in an instant. He was a starving man, finally, truly tasting for the first time in years. First kisses usually start out slow and build, but with Robin, everything felt fast-paced and blurred. He willed time to slow down so he could remember this moment for the rest of his life.


	4. I Lost All Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be the long-awaited smuts. Thank you for beta-ing @ravenpuff1956!

She tasted better than anything he could have ever imagined. There were faint hints of mint, tea, and wine all mingled together on her lips, and now on his. It was intoxicating. _She_ was intoxicating. 

Robin was surprised to find that she was the first to initiate a deeper kiss. As she slid her tongue over his upper lip, feeling the imperfect scar on his right side, he groaned and opened up to her. His reaction all but lit a fire in her belly and heat pooled in her groin. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck and she grasped tightly onto his tousled brown curls, aching to bring him closer, though it didn’t seem possible. 

She felt Cormoran nip at her tongue and gasped, which caused her to halt her ministrations and him to begin his own. He readily explored her, learning every reaction and sound. He became so consumed, that he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, all the while plundering her mouth with kisses as she ran her hands through his hair. It was all he could do not to groan at the feel of her fingertips digging into his scalp. As turned on as he was, he didn’t want to ruin this new, delicate thing between them.

After what felt like both a moment and an eternity, their kisses slowed from deep, open-mouthed explorations to sweet, slow pecks. Robin’s head was spinning with desire and with all these new and wonderful sensations. The air was charged with lust and she could _feel_ the sparks, as cliche as it sounded.

After a brief stunned silence, their eyes met and they smiled, somewhat shyly at each other. 

“Well that was…” Cormoran trailed.

“Wasn’t it?” Robin whispered, not quite finishing his thought. 

“It was...everything, Robin. I meant every word I said to you tonight. I’ve wanted this - _want_ this with you. I want to be with you.” He drew closer, pressing his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes in response. “Do you want this too?” he asked.

Her eyes fluttered open and she pulled back to look at him, biting her lip. She could see the anticipation in his eyes and could no longer bear to be apart from him. 

They were once again wrapped up in each other. Robin stumbled blindly backward toward the bed, pulling Cormoran with her. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him, wordlessly begging him for direction. He bent down to kiss her on the lips, her face cupped between his palms. 

“God you’re beautiful,” he murmured, running the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. Those blue doe-eyes, perfectly pouty lips, and porcelain skin did things to him that just looking at a woman had never done before. She was going to ruin him, in the best possible way.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied cheekily, catching one of his belt loops and pulling him closer. She began to undo the zip of his trousers, but he placed his hands firmly over hers to stop her, knowing what she was after. 

“You don’t have to do that tonight, Robin,” he said softly, worrying he might hurt her feelings if she interpreted this as rejection. If anything, she seemed relieved. Fuck that twat Matthew for ever putting his own pleasure before hers. “I just want to take care of you tonight.”

She smiled and leaned back, pulling her sleep shirt over her head, revealing wide expanses of creamy, freckled skin, slightly covered by a sheer, wine-colored bralette. 

“Fuck me,” he muttered, gazing at her sudden display of skin. 

“Pick your jaw up off the floor and deal with your leg, and we’ll see where the night leads us,” she responded cheekily. 

Cormoran growled in mock frustration and bent to remove his prosthesis. Once it was stored beside the bed, he removed his trousers and button-down and was left in a t-shirt and boxers. He was suddenly very painfully aware of the erection that was straining against the waistband of his boxers and winced slightly as he crawled over top of Robin. He hovered on his elbows and balanced on his good knee, his stump resting in between her thighs. 

She liked the feel of him above her. She felt safe, secure, and wanted. Oh, _very_ wanted she realized, as his cock brushed against her through their remaining clothes. 

Suddenly, there were too many layers. She ached for him to be closer and she wasn’t shy about letting him know. Robin thrust her hips to meet his, eliciting a low groan from him. He bent down to kiss her deeply, allowing his hand to roam fully across her body. It grazed her hips and stomach, causing her to flinch ever so slightly beneath his touch.

She tried everything within her power not to giggle; this was a very serious moment, after all, but a smile nearly involuntarily crept across her face. “Ticklish, Ellacott?” he asked, teasing her. 

Before she could respond, she felt a hand at the waistband of her pajama pants and gasped. His touch was so different than Matthew’s; so gentle and patient. She got the impression that Cormoran was going to put her first in everything he did tonight.

He smiled at her response but did not proceed. He made a point to make eye contact with her. He wasn’t about to fuck this up. He’d waited far too long for her. “That alright?” he asked, concernedly.

“ _Yesss_ ,” she purred, closing her eyes as he brought his lips to the hollow of her neck and kissed her there. He purposefully ran his stubble against her clavicle, eliciting a shudder and a moan from her sweet mouth. Robin’s whole body quivered beneath his, and they’d barely even touched.

“If you need me to stop, for any reason -”

She nodded, “I’ll tell you, I promise.”

Her promises quickly turned to pleading. “I need you, Cormoran,” she whined, as she felt his fingers continue to play at her waistband.

Those four words were all the invitation he needed. He could no longer bear the anticipation. As he rolled onto his side, his hand slipped first beneath her pajamas, then her knickers. He shouldn’t have been surprised at how wet she was, but she was quite literally dripping for him. He sank two fingers into her heat, drawing a loud moan from Robin, which he stifled with a searing kiss. 

Robin gasped, her breathing labored as Cormoran’s fingers moved deftly within her. She was soft like velvet and he could hardly wait to be inside her. For now, he reveled in the feeling of being the reason that she was so turned on. He was both flattered and a little proud if he had to admit it. He watched as she keened and bucked against his hand in search of more of him. He slowly curled his fingers inside of her, reaching that elusive spot that would inevitably cause her to shatter. 

Just when Robin felt ridiculously and incredibly _full_ , Cormoran slipped a third and final finger inside of her.She was overwhelmed by all the sensations that came with a new lover. Everything with Cormoran was different - his hands, his words, his reactions, his care, his attention…

Cormoran’s thumb reached greedily for the little bundle of nerves that sat within her silken folds, a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered, the trigger on a loaded gun. He stroked her in all the ways that Matthew never had and it wasn’t long before Robin began to feel a familiar pressure building inside of her. She knew the collapse was coming and so did he. Cormoran moved his face near hers and whispered his encouragement in her ear. The walls of her cunt were tight and gripped him so well. He could feel every movement within her as she quivered beneath his touch. One hand grasped just behind his head, her fingertips buried in his hair, while the other grasped at the stark white sheets beneath her. 

“Come for me Robin, come on, love. Almost there…” 

As if he’d spoken the magic words, he felt a final stutter of her hips against his hand and a quickening of her breath, “Cormoran, I…”

“Look at me, Robin. I want to see you,” he whispered and he turned to look her in the eyes. She loosened her grip on his hair and her gaze never broke with his. Then he felt it. At this moment, he knew that she was it for him. She was all he’d ever wanted and so much more. 

Robin’s lips parted slightly and she gasped his name for a final time. Her core tightened and released as she dissolved into pleasure, grasping onto him as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Cormoran rode it with her, not letting go until her body went limp beneath his, and he rolled off of her. 

Robin’s chest heaved as she attempted to slow her breathing. When she finally came back to herself, she looked over to find Cormoran staring at her with an awed expression on his face. “What is it?” she whispered, half-amused, half-concerned.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close as his hand rose to brush away a lock of hair that clung in a sticky, sweaty mess to her forehead. He smoothed it back and chastely kissed her lips, her cheeks, the sensitive spot behind her ear that he’d discovered earlier, and down her neck. “That was the most divine thing I’ve ever had the privilege to witness,” he murmured, his lips still in contact with her warm, flushed skin. He had worked his way down to her breasts, which were full and soft and _perfect._

Robin maintained her composure and smiled down at him. “I can’t believe we’ve done this,” she mused.

Cormoran lifted his head from her chest to look at her. “Second thoughts?” he questioned, one eyebrow raised in concern. 

Robin pushed herself up onto her elbows and reached a hand to his cheek, feeling the scruff that had scraped her skin only moments before. “Not at all,” she replied, giving him her most encouraging smile. 

“Thank Christ for that,” he murmured as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “Now, where were we?” Cormoran’s lips made immediate contact with her nipple, causing her body to tremble and roll beneath his touch. His hand gravitated toward the opposite breast and gently pinched at the soft pink bud. Robin sighed as his tongue encircled, then covered her nipple, immediately reacting to his touch. She arched her back in response to the shivers that rolled down her spine.

His tongue continued to lave at her breasts; he couldn't get enough. He allowed himself to grope at her, really _feeling_ and taking her in. He didn’t want to miss a thing. With one hand still at her breast, he trailed his way downward, kissing his way over her flat belly, her soft and curvy hips, and stopping at the smattering of reddish hair at her pelvis. “I want to taste you...one day…” he said, his voice a low, deep rumble in his chest. 

Robin smiled warmly at the implication of his words. That there would be another day, another time. More of this. Of him. She bit her lower lip and reached to pull him back up to her. He hovered above her, lazily dropping kissing onto her shoulder, her neck, and her cheeks, allowing his weight to bear down on her only slightly. Just enough to be comfortable. Her hands ran through the hair at his chest and she enjoyed the rough, rugged feel of him. Like a weighted blanket, he was calming to her, with his chest pressed against hers and his arms on either side, keeping her safe.

She shifted slightly beneath him and he let out a pained groan as she brushed against his raging erection. He was _aching_ for her and told her so. “I need you, Robin. Can I feel you, please?” he rumbled, with a hint of desperation to his voice. She nodded vigorously and pawed at the waistband of his boxers, struggling to pull them down over his muscled arse. He chuckled and assisted her efforts, sliding them down one leg at a time, then tossing them to the ground.

And there they were, in all their glory, bared to each other for the first time He was magnificent, as he grasped and lightly stroked himself, watching her reaction. Cormoran smiled that lopsided grin that she had grown to love so much. Releasing himself, he knelt back down to hover over Robin, “Is there anything I need to put on?” he whispered into her ear. 

She shook her head in response and muttered “Implant.” His mouth fell open a bit, marveling at the fact that he would get to feel her - truly feel her - for the very first time, with no barriers in the way. He trusted her. If she said he didn’t need a condom, then he knew he didn’t need a condom. She wasn’t one for games like his past lovers had been.

At first, he satisfied himself by slowly grinding against her, taking in the feel of her slick folds. She was so very wet from when he had first touched her. Cormoran couldn’t believe that it was all for him, because of him. He’d waited for this very moment for what seemed like an eternity and was already dreading when it ended. 

He continued his ministrations, pressing his hardened length against her, growing more rigid by the moment. Robin hummed and moaned beneath him until the words came tumbling out, half-choked, “Please, Cormoran, need to feel you.” Her hips lifted and bucked against him, trying to match his slow, smooth pace, searching for _more_ of him. Her arms reached around his back, and her nails dug lightly into his skin, causing him to groan. It was too much - not being inside her was too much. He had to have her. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long. I’ve dreamt about this moment with you and how it would feel. The dreams didn’t do you justice. Tell me Robin, tell me this is real. Tell me I can have you.” 

“I’m yours,” she whispered, tears stinging in the corners of her eyes.

With that, he slowly sank into her warm and welcome heat. They hissed and gasped in unison, the pleasure being far better than either of them had ever imagined. She engulfed him completely and gripped his cock tightly. Only one thrust and he was ready to explode within her - but he had to hold out. 

He drew backward and met her again, over and over, building up to a slow, rhythmic pace. With her red-gold locks falling across the pillow and her cheeks and lips tinged pink from his beard, she was luminous, even in the low light.

Cormoran bent down to kiss her, gliding deep within her. The sounds she made only served to spurn him on. Robin’s legs grasped around his hips, searching for friction. Taking the hint, Cormoran sat up to gain better access to her clit. His fingers touched and circled and caressed her, while he buried himself within her over and over. 

“Ahh, _fuck_ , Cormoran!” Robin moaned at the feel of him, the fullness within her, and the gyrating pressure of his fingers. The mix of curses and his name on her tongue was nearly enough for him to give in to his own pleasure, but he denied himself until she’d had hers. Robin was close and ready to detonate any second. 

Then, he felt it. The sudden shift where her breathing became more ragged and quickened and her moans were drawn and breathy, and she met him thrust for thrust. She was nearly there. “Yes, Robin, that’s it,” he sighed, leaning closer to her, his fingers still dancing at her clit.

Her eyes were darkened and she bit at her lower lip in concentration. Her gaze never broke with his. Cormoran felt her muscles begin to clench around him, and her mouth drew open in anticipation of her release. It was too much for both them - the tightening, the liquid heat, and the solidity of it all. Robin threw her head back against her pillow, her breasts pushing into the air, and cried out for a final time. He couldn’t take it any longer. Cormoran drove against her, one, two, three times, then bit back a moan as he exploded within her. They tumbled into ecstasy and landed with their chests pressed together, hearts racing at the thrill of what they had just shared. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @thegreendress or @hidetheteaspoons!


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